


Hope

by llcflms



Series: 霧嶋 [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llcflms/pseuds/llcflms
Summary: Renji and Ayato have a short conversation one day in :re when Touka is away.
Relationships: Kirishima Ayato & Yomo Renji
Series: 霧嶋 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820917
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter: Renji

When he heard the news that Hikari had died, Renji felt that the light had quite literally died off in his life. It didn’t matter to him if Kirishima got to his knees and begged for forgiveness. Kirishima didn’t matter to Renji anymore, not when his sister was gone– they were no longer family. Kirishima was just someone who used to be married to her. His grief and regret were his own and they were no concern of Renji. He had said things that were probably too harsh but he chooses not to apologize. What was the worst a couple of words could do, aside from probably prolonging Kirishima Arata’s recovery over his wife’s death? There wasn’t going to be any tangible harm. There was nothing Renji should bother himself with.

But the truth is, Renji had forgotten. Unlike him, Kirishima wasn’t alone.

* * *

Business had been dawdling lately. It’s not really obvious what caused the sudden fall in business, but Yomo Renji can think of some reasons off the top of his head. The winter that month seems a little colder than usual. It’s already a bother to brace the harsh icy winds and trudge deep tracks of snow just for a cup of coffee. The number of customers usually drops in the winter, with most of them opting to resort to instant coffee or whatever other hot drink they can get their hands on in the comfort of their home. Even the frequency of regulars’ visits declined.

Or it can be the sudden surge in ghoul-related incidents. Renji has no idea if there really is a sudden increase or if the CCG is simply pulling some strings to remind the public what kind of monsters ghouls are supposed to be. Given the whole wave of ghoul right movements in the past months, it’s likely it might be the latter. If humans are really locking themselves in their homes because of this, it’s working. The whole revolution issue with Ken aside, Renji finds himself cursing the CCG, especially if it is ruining :re’s business. How are they supposed to get a stronger heater for the cold winters if they’re not making enough profits?

Renji hears the usual mood-lifting chime and his head snaps up to the door, ready to greet the customer with a forced smile that Touka will probably scoff at. But it isn’t a customer that walks through the door. Instead, a familiar face pops in, glancing around before his eyes lock with Renji’s.

It will probably take much longer to get used to seeing him around, especially after both Renji and Touka had forced themselves into getting used, and maybe even ignoring, the void left behind by his departure all those years ago.

Ayato frowns a little. “Is my sister around? I have something to ask her.”

“She went to get coffee beans,” Renji replies flatly. He’s glad he’s not a man of many words because he never knows what to say around Ayato. There are too many things churning in his mind– their past, their present and even their future.

Ayato’s face falls slightly and he turns towards the door. “Oh. I’ll come back later, I guess.”

“She should be back soon. You can wait here. I’ll make some coffee,” Renji says, turning to gather the needed ingredients and utensils. It’s too cold to be out too much. Even if Ayato’s used to it, Renji prefers to be safe than sorry.

Ayato gives a muffled reply and Renji hears him moving over to take a seat by the counter. He’s glad Ayato seems to be listening lately but at the same time puzzled over the strange change in him. The younger Ayato would have snorted at any instruction, occasionally even intentionally acting in a manner he had been strictly told not to and deriving childish satisfaction in it. But of course, that was the little kid who grew up under the semi-watch of Anteiku. The years between that and what’s before Renji is something that’s lost to him forever. He’s glad he’s always been by his niece’s side, but he’ll be lying if he admits he doesn’t regret missing out on a crucial period of his nephew’s life.

He makes the coffee in silence, not really paying much attention to his hands. He’s so accustomed to making coffee after all those years that it’s been too far ingrained in him. He keeps a subtle eye on Ayato, watching him openly marvel at the many trinkets adorning the shops. It isn’t until Renji was done with the coffee and placed it in front of him that Ayato turns his attention away from them.

“Here,” Renji murmurs and Ayato picks up the cup and takes a sip.

“It’s good,” he says, putting the cup down. His hands remain clasped around it with a finger lightly tapping on the ceramic surface. Renji watches him for a moment, fully conscious of the heavy silence hanging about.

“What is it?” he asks after a while and Ayato stiffens a little.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

Ayato smiles a little, running his hand through his messy hair. He turns to look at the store’s decoration. “This place is nice. A lot nicer than Anteiku ever was. Those stuff look really cool.”

The issue in his mind isn’t the store’s appearance and Renji can tell that easily. But he remains silent as Ayato spoke, partly amused at the fact that Ayato seems to share his and Touka’s taste in the ornaments. On the other hand, Nishiki had been appalled when he first saw the things Renji and Touka had laid out in the shop. The stuffed armadillo, in particular, had made him groan in blatant disapproval.

“This place…” Ayato continues after a moment of hesitation and a slight clearing of his throat. “My sister worked hard here, right?”

“She did.”

“You must have helped her a lot.”

Renji chuckles and shakes his head. “She did most of the work.”

“You were with her in Anteiku, after that and even now. You followed her to Cochlea as well,” Ayato points out.

_I didn’t go there just for her._

“Anteiku sticks together,” Renji says instead, reciting what Yoshimura had always said from the beginning. Always stay together. Together, no matter how weak one is, they can be strong.

“Figures,” Ayato snorts. “Peace-loving idiots. You guys never change.”

Even despite the harshness of his words, the contempt he once seemed to displayed through his tone and demeanour were entirely absent. Ayato’s face holds a slight smile, which seems more weary than mocking. Renji wonders what he thinks of them now– does he still hold the irrational hatred for humans and by extension, ghouls who devoted their time to humans?

Touka had lamented more than once about how she never understood what went on in his head, and Renji shares that sentiment. He’s never able to predict what Ayato was going to do, just like how no one expected him to pack up and leave home when he was younger, just like how no one expected him to suddenly join a cruel organization hell-bent on terrorizing the weaker population and just like how no one expected him to suddenly turn his back on that very organization to break into a highly-secured prison to rescue a friend. He doesn’t want to worry, especially when Ayato’s all grown up but it’s hard ignoring his impulsiveness as well, especially when it had put him in danger so much.

 _In just one night,_ Renji muses to himself, _how many times did this kid almost die?_ It’s a wonder how Ayato really did survive on the streets by himself all this time. Renji figures that no matter how despicable Aogiri may have been as an organization, it’s better that Ayato found a place to stay. Being around people, even the worst kinds, might be better for a young kid than living alone on the streets is. Renji knows because he’s been there before. 

“My sister… when I left, how did she take it?” Ayato asks, his words slow and cautious. Renji eyes him for a moment and Ayato stiffens, forcing out a cheeky smirk. “I mean, I’m just curious. It’s not like it really matters to me.”

Renji almost snorted. 

“She was distraught, of course,” Renji says.

Ayato’s lips stretch out a little and he raises a hand to the back of his neck. “Ah… figures. But, I mean, she got over it quickly right? She managed to get on with her life build a new life for herself and surround herself with other people.”

“She always worries about you.”

Ayato shudders a little and he shakes his head. He’s trying to hide his reactions but isn’t really doing a good job of it. Watching him feels a little nostalgic. Renji can somehow understand why Ayato did certain things and why he acts in a certain way. Sure Ayato went to whole different levels, but looking at his nephew always feels like looking back into past.

“She keeps a close eye on the news. She never liked hearing about what other ghouls did and how humans present our kind, but whenever it came to Aogiri’s news, she was all ears,” Renji continues. “Everytime you’re mentioned—”

“—she changed the channel?” Ayato suggests meekly, cutting into his words. Renji fixes a glare at him and he quietens, shrinking back a little and murmuring a soft apology. He probably doesn’t want to hear what Renji was about to say– he probably already knows. 

“It’s a source of relief for her. It’s the only way she has to know that you’re still alive,” Renji says anyway.

“I didn’t… I…” Ayato grimaces at his words, stammering as he tries to come up with some excuse. It’s hopeless. There’s nothing he can say to really justify what he did, not unless he’s willing to be honest. He still tries anyway and Renji mentally credits him for it.

“I just wanted to get stronger,” he admits, though there’s no hint of the strength he desired in his voice– no confidence, no hope.

His obsession with strength had rubbed Renji off wrongly from the very beginning, bringing up memories of a certain person he’d rather not think of.

“And so it’s okay for you to leave your sister alone?” Renji asks.

“She has you guys around! It’s not like anything would happen to her,” Ayato insists childishly. “There’s nothing to worry about. She didn’t die or anything.” 

“She’s been in close shaves before.”

“Yeah, but someone like you or Old Man Yoshimura would have been secretly stalking her or something to make sure she doesn’t,” Ayato points out.

Renji has to agree with that, but it doesn’t really mean anything– something which Renji had learned the hard way. In the end, no matter how good others are, you can never trust anyone else.

_Because I wasn’t there, there was no chance for me to have saved her._

Renji can’t change the past and dwelling in ‘what if’s will only dig deeper into his guilt and regret. But there are things he can change and there are things he can act to prevent in future. He couldn’t save his sister, but he won’t just stand there and let her children walk right into the same mistake he made.

“I left my sister to someone I thought would protect her. It didn’t work out,” Renji says.

Ayato looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You had a sister?”

“I did.”

“Does Touka know?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What happened to her?”

“We lived together up until she got married. Then I heard from her husband that she was killed,” Renji recounts.

“Then… it’s not your fault. It’s her husband’s. I mean, if he was with her, he should have—”

“He left her behind to save their kids,” Renji interrupts. _Your father left your mother behind to save the two of you._

“O-Oh,” Ayato says, looking down and taking his cup. The coffee is probably cold already, considering the weather and :re’s heater isn’t exactly the best one out there, but Ayato takes a sip and continues drinking for a while. The heaviness of Renji’s words hangs in the air. Ayato doesn’t seem to be immune to it. If anything, he seems bothered.

“What happened after that? With her family?” he asks, still holding the cup close to his mouth. Renji stares at him, speechless at the unexpected question. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell Ayato that he knows what happened after and that none of it is nice and happy. But he’s resolved not to let them know. He’s going to continue keeping the distance between Touka and Ayato– not because he has to, but because he has no idea how else to deal with their relationship. Just how is Renji suppose to go up to them and tell them that he’s the reason their father went out one night and never returned? What will they think of him if they find out that it was Renji who hurled the words at Arata that made him walk the path he did and brought sorrow upon his kids?

The truth is, Renji has made more mistakes than he likes to admit.

_I’m the whole cause of it– your tragedy._

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business,” Ayato says, placing his now-empty cup onto the table. His words snap Renji out of his thoughts and he nods. It’s foreign and strange but Renji appreciates the sensitivity he seems to have developed. If it was a few weeks ago, he would never have imagined Ayato in this manner.

To him, Ayato had always been violent, crude and angry, his very disposition lacking any hints of civility.

“Her husband died as well and he left the kids behind. He tried his best to get stronger to protect them. The Doves got him,” Renji explains.

“Oh.” Ayato makes a face at the words, turning his head to look at the decorative trinkets again. He leans towards the countertop, resting his cheek on his hand to support himself. “Just like us, huh. Just like a lot of us…”

It is a common story. It’s unlikely that Ayato would have linked Renji’s past to his and Touka’s. But at his comment, Renji finds his heart lax. The worry that Ayato might find out fades and a different kind of worry resurfaces.

“Do you understand what I’m getting at?” he asks. Ayato remains silent, his head still turned. He’s silent and there’s no trace of acknowledgement on him. He’s still slightly stubborn and for a second, Renji wonders if he’s going to turn around and snap at him or leave them just because he’s been told to stay in a manner he doesn’t appreciate. Renji clears his throat and speaks with a slightly raised voice. “Ayato.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” the younger boy replies, his tone a fusion of a complain and a whine. “I won’t leave again or do somethin’ stupid and get myself killed so there no need to worry that I’ll upset Touka.”

“I’m not just saying this for Touka.”

Ayato smiled slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s always about Touka. You guys won’t want me to die, because if I do, Touka will be sad.” The bitterness in his voice does not go unnoticed but Renji is at a loss at how to respond. This is Ayato he’s talking to. The likelihood he’ll listen and understand is close to zero. 

“I’ve kept an eye on the both of you from the start. I’m not giving up halfway.” It’s easier to make it seem like a task or a job, much easier than admitting the truth. He’ll always watch them because that’s the only reason he has to live– the only small ray of hope he has in his otherwise expired life.

And he can never deny to himself the nagging thoughts at the back of his mind, reminding him over and over again how he might have saved Touka from the path her parents went down but was unable to stop Ayato from heading into a worse path. When it came to Ayato, it was a complete failure. 

“I see,” Ayato murmurs. Renji barely hears his response because as he spoke, the bell from the front door chimes. For a moment, a brief surge of hope rises in him, his body relaxing as he prepared himself to greet the customer. But it isn’t a customer. Instead, he sees Touka walk in, hands filled with paper bags. 

“Eh? Ayato, what are you doing here?” she asks, walking over to place her things on the counter. Renji moves to begin sorting out the bags, mainly keeping the beans where they should be. 

“I have something to ask you.”

“Oh? What?” 

Renji doesn’t pay much attention to the sibling’s conversation, but he keeps a close eye on the two of them. There’s no hostility between them any longer, but he knows that they’re far from healing their broken bond. But, watching them makes him feel like he’s drowning in wistfulness. Touka and Ayato are distant and lost from each other, yet the way they look at each other is strangely reminiscent. Renji feels like he’s looking through time again. He’s thrown back decades ago, to happier times– to times he longs to return to. 

He doesn’t say anything but for the millionth time, he recites his vow within himself. He couldn’t save their parents. He might have been the very reason Hikari and Arata couldn’t live to see their kids grow up. But that doesn’t mean he’ll let anything happen to the two of them. He’ll continue doing what he has always planned to do. 

Renji will continue to stay by Touka’s side, but this time, he won’t let go of Ayato. Neither of them are going to be alone again– not now, not ever. It might be mere wishful thinking, but in the end, isn’t that what hope actually is? 

**Author's Note:**

> I wish we got more of Yomo and Ayato. :(


End file.
